


A Duet For Three

by Mackem



Series: Imaginary Advent Calendar 2012 [2]
Category: Strictly Come Dancing RPF
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian finds his two favourite ladies at the Strictly Come Dancing Christmas party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Duet For Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dairyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairyme/gifts).



> Every year, I write what I call my Imaginary Advent Calendar, where each day until December 25th I open another day of an advent calendar that doesn’t exist and write what I picture various people or characters in different shows/fandoms/books in a holidays context. This year I’ve challenged myself to write a ficlet for every day. See Vicky panic! They’ll be in various different fandoms and pairings, and won’t be particularly long (except the ones that eat my brain). Enjoy! X!

Ian finds the two of them next to the by now slightly dilapidated Christmas tree. BBC budgets for end of series parties aside, nothing could be crashed into by Artem and Robin mid-tango and not be left reeling. The ladies are reapplying makeup in the warm, colourful glow of the fairy lights. He’s pleasantly sloshed.

“I’m pleasantly sloshed!” he tells them with a broad grin and a raised glass of mulled wine. Both Claudia and Zoe cheer.

“That’s as maybe. But you’re not wearing anywhere near enough eyeliner,” Claudia tells him seriously.

“I’m not wearing any at all, actually.”

“Then the situation is officially terrible,” she declares, and beckons him closer. “Bring me your eyes, Ian, and I shall line them.”

“And then I’ll add mascara. It’s like we’re a production line,” Zoe grins. She tugs at his tie as he bends, duly allowing Claudia to daub at his eyes. Zoe looks him over appraisingly, taking in his outfit; scarlet trousers, with a patterned shirt and matching tie in shades of faun. “Your tie is especially unobtrusive tonight. Nicely done.”

“Are you wearing a tie? Oh my god, you’re wearing a _tie_ ,” Claudia exclaims, watching as Zoe lifts it and tickles Ian under the chin with it to demonstrate. “I had no idea. It’s like your entire shirt is a kind of camouflage. Ian. This is _quite_ the achievement.”

“I despise loud ties,” Ian tells her seriously. “Give me a matching shirt and tie any day.”

“I can tell you’ve thought long and hard about this,” Claudia replies, her manner just as grave as she adds a final touch to his right eye. She grins, then dots her liner on the tip of his nose. “Sorry. I had a sudden urge. Terrible of me, I know. Couldn’t resist.”

“You are forgiven, as always,” he grins, and laughs as Zoe drags him closer.

“Stand up straight, for goodness’ sake!”

“Again, that’s my fault,” Claudia offers as she casually steals Ian’s glass and sips from it. “If Ian stood up straight for me I’d have applied eyeliner to his clavicle.”

“Have I ever told you that you have gorgeous eyelashes?” Zoe asks as she carefully applies mascara to him. He thinks for a moment, scanning their entire friendship as best he can through the wine marinating his brain.

“I don’t think so. You told me I had a delicate bone structure, once. And enviable ankles.”

“I stand by both of those remarks,” Zoe grins. “And also the fact that your eyelashes are stunning.”

“You’re a woman of principle,” he laughs, before their attention is stolen by a hiss of feedback spitting from speakers across the room.

“What is _that_?” Claudia asks, straining to see as a crowd gathers in front of the stage. Ian peers over people’s heads for a moment, his gaze hazy with alcohol, before he realises that the figures on the stage are James and Brendan, arguing loudly over a microphone. The penny drops as a beat kicks in.

“Karaoke, I think.”

“Karaoke! I live for karaoke,” Claudia announces, before fixing the both of them with a stern look. “Immediate idea: a duet. A duet for three. A tri-et, if you will.”

“Karaoke’s not my strong point,” Zoe protests, but with no real force behind it. She slips her mascara back into her purse and pecks Ian fondly on the cheek. “Consider yourself spruced up.”

“Will do. Thanks, love.”

“No, this is unacceptable. Karaoke is nobody’s strong point,” Claudia insists. “The only people who are good at karaoke are the people who do it for a living, and they’re _singers_. That’s their job. Good singers are not welcome in karaoke. Where would be the fun in that?”

“The fun is listening to people sing well!” Zoe laughs, but Claudia has an answer for this, too.

“Incorrect. Did you know that ‘karaoke’ comes from two Japanese words, which translate to ‘strangled cat’ in English?”

“I do think bad karaoke is better than good karaoke,” Ian offers. He holds his arms out to the both of them, grinning when they link either side of him. “But the song is very important. We need to find _our_ song.”

“As long as it can be a Christmas song, then,” Zoe says firmly, as together they totter through the crowd, aiming vaguely at where the music seems to be coming from. They may turn slowly in a circle together as they progress, but at least they remain upright.

Their song, they decide, is _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_. Frankly they seem to be in the minority in this opinion, but standing together, screeching into a microphone, with their arms firmly entangled, they find it very hard to care.


End file.
